Rise of the Phoenix
by Likhari
Summary: Albus Dumbledore has a little over a year to live. One year to ensure the fall of Voldemort. One year to find if he has to condemn an innocent young man to his death. One year to show the dark lord and the world that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore will not go gently into the night.
1. Nurmengard

**A/N:** So, this idea has been in my mind ever since I read an online discussion about how Dumbledore left Harry little to no help in finding and destroying the Horcruxes. This story has a Dumbledore who decides to give Harry all the tools needed to defeat Voldemort. I always wondered what would have happened in canon if the trio had come across protections around the other Horcruxes like those around the cave with the locket. I doubt Harry, or even Hermione, would have known to detect magic in the way Dumbledore did. Hence, this story. There have been many Mentor Dumbledore stories but hopefully, this will be different and interesting enough to justify its existence.

Also, this story will start near the end of OoTP and will diverge from the canon soon afterward. No bashing and no unnecessary pairings.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the poem 'Do not go gentle into that good night'.

* * *

**_Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light._**

**\- _Dylan Thomas_**

The castle stood imposing on the mountain cliff. A chilly wind, cruel and harsh enough to set the teeth chattering, passed through the few trees that dared to grow on the unforgiving slope. The snow-covered Alps surrounded the smaller mountain, blocking the setting sun's rays, and throwing the already black castle into deeper shadows. Remnants of last night's snowfall were melting in puddles, making a difficult climb almost treacherous. Albus Dumbledore huffed in annoyance at his stiff joints as he used his wand, transfigured into a walking staff, to clamber over a boulder.

The wards were extensive enough to prevent anyone, even a phoenix, through the barriers. They had been necessary, especially when they helped contain one of the most dangerous wizards to ever live. After their duel, Albus had known that Gellert's supporters wouldn't just sit idle and would try to free their lord. So, in a stroke of genius, if Albus had to compliment himself, he had decided to imprison Gellert in Nurmengard itself. The castle, built stone by enchanted stone, was a wonder of magic. If only it had been used for something better than holding Gellert's enemies.

A sound coming from his right and below had him whirling around, wand back to original shape and glowing with a blue light at the tip. Albus chuckled and lowered his wand when he saw who had caused the noise.

A graphorn, youngling if judged from its size, stood at the edge of the wards. Confused as to why it was unable to proceed further, it let out a soft cry which was immediately answered by a louder one. A lumbering beast with golden horns the size of Albus's arm came from around a bend and nudged the youngling away from the boundary. Apparently, the magical beasts of the Alps had gotten used to the magic of the castle.

For a moment, Albus wondered if he should follow them to their nest and see if he could procure some horns. They were incredibly rare and useful in potions. Severus, for one, would be delighted.

The thought of Severus brought with it the reminder of why he was here and not in the comfort of his home back in Godric's Hollow. Albus sighed and resumed his trek. He passed an outpost made of rocks and held together by magic. The Austrian Auror, a hulking brute with curly hair, nodded at him. Albus nodded back and stepped on the paved path which led to the castle proper.

The entrance of the castle was a tall door made of wood but enchanted heavily enough to have stopped a rampaging dragon. Gellert's mantra, which had once ensnared Albus as well, '_For the Greater Good_' was inscribed on the stone above the door. Suppressing painful memories of what the greater good had stolen from him, Albus pressed his hand against the iron knocker. The castle acknowledged him, one of the only two people allowed inside, and opened the gate. The other being an Auror from the Austrian Ministry who was replaced on a weekly basis.

Albus passed the pristine entrance chamber and damp hallways without stopping. He felt the deep magic enriching the stone push against his own, trying to suppress it even when the wards had recognized him as a friend. He climbed the stairs to the tallest tower, pausing just once to admire the view from a window, and knocked politely on the door of the only cell.

He heard a scraping sound, like a blanket being gathered against the floor, and then a feeble voice telling him to enter.

Albus didn't bother to try to stop the rush of feelings and emotions which crashed into his mental barriers when he opened the door. He had had enough time to make peace with his many failings. He hadn't thought about his old friend in more than a decade. Apparently, Gellert had.

"Albus," an old man, sitting underneath the window, a grimy blanket wrapped around him, wheezed in a thick German accent. "It must be my birthday. I had a dream about you two nights ago, and here you are."

It seemed that the enchantments hadn't completely robbed Gellert of his innate skills. "Gellert," Albus nodded. He waved his wand in a semi-circle, noticing the glint in Gellert's eyes upon seeing the elder wand. His magic clashed against the castle's and came out victorious. The many holes and loose threads in the blanket were mended, a bowl of lukewarm water appeared next to Gellert, and a soft leather chair for Albus was conjured. It spun in the air for a moment before falling to the floor with a thud.

Albus gathered his robes around him and sat, observing his magical equal. Gellert's skin, which had been pale when they were young, reminded him of vampires – dark circles beneath his eyes, disheveled and dirty hair, and parched lips. It surprised him that he felt pity for the man in front of him. Time had not been kind to him in the years since Albus last visited him.

Gellert drunk the water in a single gulp and looked up expectantly. Albus sighed, giving his wand an upward flick. The loaf of bread and a slice of cheese, hidden on his person in a stasis charm, floated out of his robes.

He let the other wizard eat, filled his bowl with water, and gathered his thoughts. He didn't want to stay more than necessary. When a strong gust of wind flew in through the tiny window, Albus cast a mild warming charm on the cell. Gellert finished the meal, meager as it was, in quick time and leaned back against the wall, a faraway expression on his face.

"Ah," he sighed. "A meal fit for a king compared to the horrible stew I get once a day." Gellert's eyes opened and fixated on Albus with a familiar hunger. His voice had lost the harshness from before. "It has been, if my efforts at counting days haven't been for naught, close to thirteen years since your last social call. I remember."

Albus also remembered. He had visited right after placing Harry in the care of Petunia Dursley. Voldemort had just vanished, the wizarding world had started hoping again, and Albus desperately craved a friendly ear. Someone to tell him that the losses his decisions had wrought were acceptable. Gellert hadn't disappointed.

"I have come seeking information on an obscure branch of magic," he said. He had thought long and hard on how to approach the problem. Gellert may not have explored dark magic as much as Tom but his knowledge was second to none. Albus had exhausted all other avenues of knowledge before deciding on asking his friend.

"Come now, Al," Gellert leaned forward a little, and Albus felt his natural charisma at work, despite being weakened by decades in a magic suppressing prison. "I may have forgotten my manners, trapped in here with nothing but my thoughts, but surely you haven't. Is this the way to greet an old _flame_? One would think we were jilted lovers, holding grudges and resentments in our hearts."

"What do _you_ want to talk about, Gellert?"

"Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, you know. News about the world if you are feeling talkative. You'd be surprised how quickly my guards take my views on their intelligence to their hearts. And to think, I always state the truth."

For the next few minutes, Albus gave Gellert a quick overview of the situation of the wizarding world, keeping news of Britain to himself. He mainly focused on the German ministry's efforts to rehabilitate the werewolves, which Albus commended wholeheartedly, and the Brazilian Council of Warlock's decision to declare the Amazonian Forest People as endangered species to protect them from muggle encroachment. Gellert listened with a small smile on his face, never interrupting him, never asking for more details when Albus switched abruptly between topics.

As Albus was talking about the possible sightings of a Sand Tiger in Egypt, Gellert laughed. Albus paused, wondering what had Gellert found so amusing about the death of a team of curse breakers who had come across the mythical creature near the pyramids.

"Forgive me, Al," Gellert said, composing himself. "What do I care for the happenings of the outside world? This is my home, now." He swept his hands wide as if showing off an opulent palace instead of a ten by ten room. "Though, I did notice that you managed to entirely evade your own home country. Any particular reason?"

Albus decided to forego any evasive answers. It was only fair, seeing that he himself was seeking knowledge and expected Gellert to answer truthfully. "The dark lord Voldemort has returned. He used an arcane ritual to regain his body, using his father's bones, a servant's flesh, and an enemy's blood."

Gellert pursed his lips. "It could be a modified version of the Resurrection Ritual created by the Aztecs," he said. "Their wizard kings were terrified of death and often sacrificed young men to appease the gods. When the gods stopped answering, they resorted to using the blood of their enemies and the bodies of their own children to cheat death. It's not a permanent solution as the ritual is said to place considerable strain on one's magic."

"I surmised as much," Albus said. "Perhaps Voldemort used his father's bones to circumvent the strain you mentioned. Regardless, he fashioned himself a new body. A younger and more powerful body. What surprised me was how his spirit continued to cling to this plane, entirely different from how ghosts behave, even after his previous body was destroyed all those years ago."

"An intriguing mystery," Gellert said, a hint of superiority in his voice as if he knew the answer.

"One I have already solved," Albus said. "I had my suspicions but the ritual and his own words afterward were enough. Voldemort had used a Horcrux to cling to life."

"Bravo, Al," Gellert clapped. It was a pitiful sound; his bony hands didn't have enough flesh on them. "Now, I am curious. Since you have already solved the mystery, why are you here and not out there, hunting down his soul container?"

"Containers," Albus corrected, watching with amusement as a horrified expression came on Gellert's face. "Voldemort has created more than one Horcrux. He can't be defeated for good unless they all are destroyed."

"Stupid Brit," Gellert spat. "Mutilating his own soul in such a manner. Has he never heard or read of the sanctity and power of an untarnished soul? Well, at least the history books will replace me with him as the greatest dark wizard of this century."

Albus's reluctance to meet his eyes caused Gellert to chuckle. "Oh, Albus. Still keeping secrets."

"It is for their own good. You can imagine the panic which would ensue if it were to be known publicly that the dark lord is practically immortal."

"True. The sheep would bleat and scream, and it wouldn't change a single thing. So, you need my help in tracking the Horcruxes? I assume he would have placed them in powerfully magical items."

Albus shook his head. He adjusted his robes and recast the warming spell. As day gave way to the night, the temperature plummeted towards zero. "I am doing well in tracking them, Gellert, though I thank you for the offer. No, what I am here is to ask you how much can you tell me about the process of selecting a container."

Gellert shrugged with his bony shoulders. "I already told you. It has to be something powerful, not easily destructible, as the soul would reject anything mundane. Magical objects are a good enough bet, especially if they are goblin made. They are already imbued with enough charms and enchantments to remain unblemished even after centuries of magical exposure. Although, the presence of a soul shard itself would grant some manner of protection. Souls are terribly difficult to destroy; Fiendfyre, Basilisk venom," he counted off on his fingers. "These are the two things, I am positive, that can destroy a soul container."

"What about a living soul container?"

"You mean like that eastern witch who put one half of her soul in a bird and then kept it in a golden cage? From what I have heard of this Voldemort from you, I doubt he trusts anyone enough to give them a piece of his soul. Not to mention, he would be the laughing stock of dark wizards across the world if he makes such a stupid move."

"No, he doesn't really trust anyone," Albus agreed. Shattered souls, though, do not look for trust when choosing their destination. Something magically powerful suffices. "Is there a way to remove or destroy the soul without damaging the container itself?"

Gellert sat up straighter. "Albus, is there something you wish to share with me? Rest assured that I will take your secrets to the grave."

Albus looked at his former friend and the scourge of magical Europe. Gellert may have done horrible things in his life, he was after all responsible for the death of thousands of wizards, but he had never lied to Albus and never told on him. During the trials, the Wizangamot had asked Gellert of his childhood and the influences which had made him so, but he had kept quiet. Albus's name never came up, even though Albus had a defense prepared.

"Harry Potter," Albus said, his body sagging from the enormous burden he may have to place on the young child. Not for the umpteenth time, Albus asked forgiveness of Harry. "The night Voldemort attacked in 1981, the rebounded killing curse shattered his soul without his knowledge. The soul latched itself to the only other magical presence in the room."

"Your boy hero is a Horcrux?" Gellert asked. When Albus nodded, he laughed. "Oh, this is worthy of the storybooks. Such twists; two wizards joined by a prophecy _and_ souls. Albus, you should come around more often. Never a dull conversation with you. I do get awfully bored in here, waiting for death."

Seeing Albus's pensive look, Gellert controlled his laughter. "I did some research into Horcruxes during the waning days of the war, Al, but nothing about living soul containers. It is a genius concept, trusting your soul with someone who can protect himself. Western wizards should learn something from the East. Their shamans and enchanters knew that the soul is a sliver of the divine. To trap it inside a non-living object is akin to insulting the gods. But if you ask me how to destroy the soul shard without harming the living container, you will find me at wit's end."

Albus sighed. He had been afraid of this. His discussions with the Iraqi and Slavic warlocks had ended with similar statements. He decided to go through the Black family library again, in the hopes that he missed something the first time.

He flicked his wand and the time sprung up on its tip. It was late. He should return; he had called an Order meeting. It wouldn't do to be late. Before he could say another word, a song vibrated in his bones. Fawkes.

It was a song of urgency, of dark tidings. Something had gone terribly wrong. He was needed. He stood up, vanishing the bowl and the chair. "Gellert, thank you for your time."

"It's all I have," Gellert smiled. For a moment, he looked like the pale shadow of a youth Albus had fallen in love with. Where did we go so wrong, Albus wondered?

Albus opened the door but stopped when Gellert called him. He turned to see a strange sensation on Gellert's face.

"Al," he said, in a careful tone. "I understand why you can't kill Voldemort yourself. You are not a part of the prophecy. What I don't understand is why you haven't taken out his support network, yet? Who is stopping you from laying waste to his so-called Death Eaters? Why haven't you swooped down on them like the wrath of the gods themselves? Your boy hero is barely a child. Give him a proper chance against a wizard far more powerful than him. You are Albus Dumbledore, the wizard who defeated _me_ when I possessed the elder wand. Where is the rage? Where is the righteous anger that I saw when we dueled in the streets of Berlin and put out so much magic that the statute of secrecy almost crumbled? Do not go soft in your old age, Albus. It doesn't really suit you."

Albus closed the door and hurried to the edge of the wards where Fawkes would be waiting for him. Gellert's parting words reverberated in his mind, furrowing deeper and deeper and sowing the seeds of a plan. The elder wand agreed, anticipating violence, and sang its own song.


	2. Pressure Drop

_Fourteen-year-old Albus ran through the darkened hallway on the third floor, skidding to a halt outside an unused charms classroom. He heard laughter, mean and mocking, and a whimpering noise. Blood boiled inside of him.  
How dare they?  
The door slammed open in a burst of wandless magic startling its three occupants. The big, burly sixth-year Gryffindors Aikman and Raynor whirled around, their wands rising in unison. They kept rising, in a high arc, and into the waiting hand of Albus. Finishing the silent disarming spell, Albus used its ending motion to cast the next, a tricky transfiguration. Aikman cried in surprise as his legs turned to stone. So did Raynor's, who seemed unable to form a word.  
"Al?" a small voice asked, hope evident.  
Elphias Doge, Albus's best friend, his only true friend, lay on the cold stone. His eyes were only half-open, angry red welts on them, and boils covered every inch of his exposed skin.  
After casting a pain-numbing spell on Elphias, Albus picked him up and turned to the bullies.  
"Next the time you try to pick on anyone else, I will not be so lenient," he snarled. Their faces were twisted with fear, humiliation, and anger. The last emotion could cause problems, Albus thought. He waved his wand in a low arc and finished with a flick. A couple of charms and a spell which Albus had found in the restricted section of the library followed. Supporting Elphias's trembling body, Albus made his way to the infirmary, his mind coming up with excuses which wouldn't result in too much counter-questioning.  
Partially turned to stone, their wands taken and stowed away behind a suit of armor, and rendered invisible and mute to the senses, the two bullies were found after a day of search. They never mentioned the name of their tormentor, after all, everyone knew that the Dumbledores were crazy._

* * *

Albus Dumbledore appeared with a flash of fire in a dark alley, two streets away from Twelve, Grimmauld Place. After depositing him, Fawkes, his familiar, vanished, leaving behind the ending notes of a melancholy song.

Albus pondered his friend's actions for a moment. It was believed by some magizoologists that phoenixes had certain clairvoyant powers. Did Fawkes see something untoward happening to him or someone from the Order? Albus pulled out his wand and disillusioned himself. Despite assurances from Severus that the dark lord has stopped searching for Sirius Black, it would be foolish to walk up to his house without taking precautions.

He crossed the road, walked past a small park with dead grass, and stood on the pavement. Number 12, Grimmauld Place, under the Fidelius charm, pushed itself out from nothing, like an inflatable balloon between number 11 and number 13. No light escaped its many windows, and magical ivy grew near the basement window. Albus had instructed the Order members to let it be; the ivy gave the withering house a modicum of a homely feel. The protective enchantments of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black were something to behold even though he was used to Hogwarts' ancient wards. Albus tapped the silver door knocker, a twisted serpent, with his wand, and the door opened accompanied by loud, metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain.

He sent three orbs of bright white light floating in front of him, chasing away the oppressing darkness of the hall and revealing faded wallpaper and a threadbare carpet. Albus made his way to the kitchen, through another doorway and down a small flight of stairs, where the Order members usually met. He had some information to share, courtesy of Severus, and some plans to modify.

An empty kitchen met him.

There was a half-full bottle of firewhiskey on the table along with a couple of glasses. A small plate held someone's partially eaten dinner. A chair on the other side of the table lay overturned on the stone floor as if its occupant had left in a great hurry. Dread coiling in the pit of his stomach, Albus took a deep breath and called the servant of the house.

"Kreacher."

A loud crack and an old house-elf wearing a tattered pillow-case appeared in front of him. Kreacher had served the house of Black for almost a century but the death of the last of the Blacks, whose actions and ideas matched pureblood ideology, had turned him into a bitter servant. He stood there, cowering under his gaze, muttering obscenities and smiling. Albus had never seen him smile since they had appropriated the house as the new headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

"Kreacher," he said, not unkindly, and winced as he saw the house-elf flinch at being addressed with something other than scorn.

Oh, Sirius, Albus thought. If he had been more decisive and less swayed by his opinions of the former Blacks, he may have saved Sirius from all those horrible years in Azkaban. A broken man was not a fit master for a lonely house-elf, especially when they were both confined to a house they hated and loved in equal measure.

"Where is everyone?"

The house-elf looked up at him. Was that glee in his eyes? "Master and the blood traitors and filthy half-breeds went to meet their doom. Oh, finally, Kreacher and his noble mistress will be alone again."

"Where did they go?"

Kreacher turned his head away, not willing to answer. A second later, he turned back with a painful expression. Sirius must have given him a direct command which he couldn't ignore. "To the ministry of magic, to save Harry," Kreacher said with an effort, and then laughed. "Mistress Cissy shall be so delighted."

Cissy? Narcissa Malfoy, former Narcissa Black. Next in line to inherit the Black fortune.

"Kreacher, when did you talk to Narcissa Malfoy?" he asked, even as he raised his wand. His Patronus, a phoenix, flew once around the room, reading the message from his thoughts, and then flew, straight through the wall. If Sirius and the others have gone to the ministry to save Harry, it meant Voldemort had succeeded in planting false memory in Harry's mind. Not for the first time, Albus cursed his decision to not take an active part in Harry's education.

"Why should Kreacher answer the barmy, old fool? The one who was instrumental in defiling the house of Kreacher's noble mistress."

Albus sighed. Kreacher didn't deserve what was about to happen to him, but ever since his conversation with Gellert, Albus had been feeling a turmoil in his heart. Sure, he had let go the mantra of "For the Greater Good" the day Ariana died, and he will not take any lives, but it didn't mean he shouldn't use all his abilities, even if they were considered borderline dark thanks to ministry's rules and regulations.

"I truly apologize," he said.

He made eye contact with the house-elf and went through his mind as easy as sifting through the Hogwarts budget reports. What he saw was enough to make him groan in frustration and anger.

"What did the old fool do to Kreacher?" Kreacher was rubbing his forehead, his large eyes wide and fearful. House-elves had their own version of Occlumency shields but they were no match for Albus' magic.

"Nothing damaging, Kreacher. I am, again, sorry for how you were and are treated, and hope that your master can do right by you."

Albus left Kreacher looking a bit forlorn and worried and muttering about cooking a meal for his mistress. The moment he stepped outside, Fawkes appeared with a hastily scribbled note from Severus. Albus read the note in the flickering light of the streetlamp and felt a lead weight go down in his throat. He passed the anti-apparition wards, set up on the house by himself, and disappeared without a sound.

* * *

The atrium was deserted. The clerk who usually recorded the visitor's wands was absent and his desk had a long scorch mark. One more innocent sacrificed at the altar of Voldemort's foolish ideals. This needed to be stopped. Albus pressed the button for the lifts and waited.

The content of Severus's letter was burnt in his eyes, and try he might, Albus couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen. Shacklebolt, Lupin, Moody, and Tonks have gone to DoM to save Potter and other Gryffindors. Black is with them. The Dark Lord has sent a team as well, Bellatrix and Lucius included.

Was this his fault? Sirius would have never sat back and let others rush into danger to protect his godson, Albus thought. Perhaps, he shouldn't have forced the last of the Blacks to stay cooped inside the home he hated for so long. But hadn't he done so with the sole purpose of protecting Sirius?

Gryffindors. Of course, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley would follow Harry no matter what. For a child, who had been neglected for a decade of his life, to forge such strong friendships gave Albus a peace of mind he hadn't thought was possible.

Albus entered the first lift which arrived and tapped his feet in rhythm with the sound of lift's clang as he descended each level. Apart from a few Unspeakables, who would be too engrossed in their work to notice minor details such as school children and Death Eaters, the department would be empty. The dark corridor which led to the Department of Mysteries was lit with blue flames hanging at head level. He noted numerous spell marks on the walls, including the stunning spell and the killing curse. What looked like dried blood was splattered near the far door.

Albus stepped in the corridor and stopped.

Oculus charm was a spell not taught in Hogwarts anymore ever since the invention of the Disillusionment charm, which was a shame really. The user had to stand still or risk leaving behind ripples in the air not unlike heat rising from a paved road under a hot sun. Exactly what Albus noticed in the corridor.

At two different places.

A tap of the wand on his robes and he vanished. A startled yelp came from the first disillusioned Death Eater as she lifted the charm.

"Where did he go?" She wore a white mask but there was no mistaking her voice. Alecto Carrow. The second hidden figure then, most certainly, would be her brother, Amycus.

"Hide, you fool," Amycus said, lifting his own charm. "Someone else might come."

"But where did Dumbledore go?"

Amycus shrugged. "Maybe he apparated back to the atrium?"

"You can't apparate from here, dumb skull," Alecto snapped, her wand moving left and right.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Ms. Carrow," Albus said, as he flicked his wand.

The Carrows twin yelps of surprise were short-lived as a wave passed through the walls. Arms, made of stone, shot out and grabbed at their robes. Alecto fired off a Bombarda, but immediately another set of arms took the place of the destroyed one. Amycus' wand hand was pinned against his stomach, making it impossible for him to cast a spell to free himself.

Albus stunned them and pocketed their wands. He'd return them once the Carrow's complete their sentence in Azkaban.

He left the unconscious Death Eaters and opened the black door at the end of the hallway. The round chamber wall started rotating. Most newcomers, usually ministry employees who had no business in the DoM except nosing around, got confused and ended up entering the wrong divisional room, but Albus had worked with the Unspeakables on a few experiments during the 80s and he knew his way around.

He raised his wand and concentrated on meeting his students. The wall ground to a halt and a door to his left opened, one which lead to the Brain Room. Albus shivered despite himself and strode forward, crossed the room, and entered the dungeon with the veil of death.

The feel of magic was sharp in the air, errant killing curses, stunners, and bludgeoners flying everywhere. Albus was greeted with a scene of chaos.

Halfway down the steps, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Kingsley were fighting four masked figures. On the dais with the veil, Sirius and Bellatrix exchanged spellfire. Remus stood at the bottom of the stairs protecting Harry and Neville against Lucius Malfoy.

Albus scrambled down the steps. He was almost at the bottom when one of the masked death eaters saw him and yelled. A sickly yellow spell made his way towards him. Albus conjured a shield that reflected the spell towards its castor. The death eater was hit on the shoulder but he didn't go down. He tried to run but Albus caught him with an invisible hook spell and yanked him back. The man hit the stones hard and passed out, his shoulder leaking blood.

Using the diversion, Mad-Eye blasted his own opponent off his feet. Tonks and Kingsley, brave Aurors, made short work of the other two.

Unfortunately, Sirius was distracted by Albus' arrival. Bellatrix's fading purple spell hit him on the face and his smile froze in place.

He staggered once and fell face-first on the dais. Bellatrix hooted with laughter. "I killed the lil' Black," she shrieked, doing a little jig at the spot.

"No," Harry's cry of anguish ripped the sudden lull in activity as each combatant was transfixed on Bellatrix. "SIRIUS!"

Bellatrix chuckled harder, conjuring a shield to protect himself from Tonks. She jumped over the desks, banished Moody into a wall, and was gone before Albus stop her. Remus stunned Lucius Malfoy and ran after Harry who was clambering onto the dais.

Albus bound the remaining Death Eaters in unbreakable ropes.

"He's not breathing, Remus," Harry said in a hushed whisper. "Why isn't he breathing?"

Remus wiped away a few tears and shook his head. Harry stood up and looked towards the exit. Harry ripped his arm out of Remus's slackened grip and ran after Bellatrix. "She killed Sirius!" Harry roared. "She killed him — I'LL KILL HER!"

"Remus, stop him," Albus ordered, climbing the dais.

As always, the Veil of Death started whispering in his ear when got too close. Albus ignored it and focused on the man lying prone at his feet.

Sirius was not breathing but Albus detected hints of life above his chest. His pulse was almost non-existent but present. A variation of the Comatose Curse, then. Draught of Living Death given spell form, but far dangerous in that the victim's slowly stopped breathing. Albus was by no means a proper healer but he knew enough, thanks to the time spent with Nicholas. The Sorcerer's Stone had given the man a daredevil attitude.

Albus waved his wand over Sirius' chest and mouth. The curse resisted, trying to twist free of his magic. Albus doubled his effort, willing the change, imagining it, and forcing the magic to obey his commands.

After what felt like an hour and a sweat-drenched forehead, Sirius gasped. He curled in a fetal position and took shallow breaths. Albus stood up, tired but pleased. Everyone was safe, well relatively. This time he'd force the Wizengamot to administer Veritserum to get the truth of Voldemort's return out of his Death Eater's mouth.

The mere thought of Dark Lord seemed to be cursed, itself, as Albus suddenly felt uneasy. Harry and Remus. They should have been back by now.

* * *

Was he too late?

Albus opened the small golden gate separating the Atrium from the row of lifts. Remus lay, his back propped against the gate, bleeding from a shoulder wound. He shook his head upon seeing Albus.

I can't move.

Albus plucked the thought out of Remus' mind. He stood up after making sure his injury wasn't serious.

Near one of the fireplaces, Bellatrix cowered behind Voldemort. Tom Riddle was talking to Harry, who lay on the ground with a bleeding leg. Albus recognized the inhuman face, pale skin, and red eyes from the memory of the graveyard which Harry had shared. He felt Tom's aura seeping into the air, clashing against the magic around him, and trying to subdue it. How many dark rituals Tom would have had to perform for his magic to be corrupted such? Magic wasn't supposed to be subdued by a wizard's aura. It should be enriched and in return, it provided power over reality.

Tom raised his wand, a dangerous green light forming on the tip of his wand. Albus couldn't hear the words being said but could imagine them well enough and felt the malice in the air. Reacting with rabid desperation the likes of which he hadn't felt in years, he flicked his wand towards the floor, letting loose a powerful torrent of magic.

The polished marble floor rippled and the fountain in the middle of the Atrium erupted with a noise like a cannon blast. Tom's killing curse fizzled away as he was drenched and the water formed long tendrils of swirling elemental magic, wrapping his limbs. Bellatrix shrieked some obscenities and hurled a deep purple spell at him. Probably a blood-boiling curse.

Albus stepped calmly to the side, rotating his wand in a half-counter clockwise direction. Bellatrix was thrown backward, her wand falling out of her grip and clattering uselessly on the floor.

Continuing with the counter-clockwise wand motion, Albus ended it with a small twirl. The metallic occupants of the fountain sprang to life. The animated house-elf and the goblin ran towards the fireplaces set in the walls, the centaur, and the wizard flanked Tom, while the witch ran at Bellatrix, punching her as she tried to get up and then pinning her to the ground.

In the meantime, Tom had broken free of his elemental spell and transfigured the water tendrils into two fiery basilisks, each the length of a house table in the great hall at Hogwarts. He sent the serpents at Albus, Harry forgotten for the moment, exactly as Albus desired.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Albus said, waving his wand. "The Aurors are on their way."

The air around the Elder wand cooled and filled with a low hum which made the wand shudder in his hand. A griffin like shape, made of sparks, was conjured into being and pulled at the earth. A deep crevice split in the floor as dirt and stones were thrown with so much force that the walls of the hall shuddered and cracks appeared on them. The essence of the magical beast relished in consuming the earth, growing with each breath, and took a solid form just in time as the serpents reached Albus.

With a swipe of its massive eagle claws, the griffin swiped right through one of the serpents, the flames dying with a whimper. The other one was treated as food and gulped down its beak with the fire clashing harmlessly against jagged rocks.

"The Aurors will perish like the hundreds who dared challenge Lord Voldemort," Tom snarled. He threw a spell at the griffin, causing it to stumble. A jet of dark green was then shot at Albus who disappeared without a sound and appeared behind Tom.

Albus had long ago mastered the technique of hiding the sound of his apparition after realizing its usefulness in duels. Tom was surprised but not so much that he dropped his guard. Albus' next spell, a variation of the petrification charm he had perfected in his school days, bounced harmlessly off a silver shield.

"Harry, stay behind me," Albus said, softly. The boy had a haunted look in his eyes but he obliged. Albus vanished the blood on his leg and performed a mild healing charm. Poppy could treat it afterward, more thoroughly at Hogwarts.

Tom had, in the meanwhile, managed to subdue the griffin. His bludgeoners impacted with such strength that the rocks forming the griffin's shoulders were pulverized. Another slash of his wand and the powerful vanishing spell struck the griffin. Tom sent another killing curse at Albus, disappeared with a crack, and appeared near the fountain, targeting him with a Crucio and a bone-breaker.

Albus conjured a wooden shield that splintered against the power of the killing curse and stepped neatly away from the paths of the Cruciatius and the bone-breaker. His eyes wandered over to Bellatrix who was still trying to throw off her metallic captor. Albus threw an Anti-Disapparition jinx at her before she could think of fleeing, though he doubted she'd leave her master mid-battle.

Two conjured wolves attacked Tom who conjured a Fiendfyre wyvern. The stone creatures were burnt without leaving a speck of ash under the onslaught of the hell-fire. Tom's next spells collided with the centaur and the wizard, canceling Albus's magic and rendering them immobile.

"I had always found you to be an intelligent individual, Tom," Albus said, observing the wyvern who having consumed the wolves was looking around for the next target. "Playing with hellfire is foolish to the highest degree."

He gripped the Elder Wand in both hands and brought it down like a sword. Its tip glowed aquamarine for an instant before a jet of enchanted water erupted, transforming into a sphinx. The wyvern roared, sending scalding hot air at Albus, and lunged at the water sphinx.

"Perhaps, I wish to burn this mockery of wizarding power to ashes and form my own ministry, you fool," Tom spat. Through the haze of mist created by the ending hiss of the fire wyvern and the enchanted sphinx, Albus saw Tom call forth black shadows from his wand.

Albus flicked his wand and the shadows turned into a host of butterflies that flew at Tom and settled on his shoulders. Before Tom could so much as twitch, Albus extended the transfiguration spell. The butterflies turned into metallic claws which gripped Tom with enough pressure to draw blood.

Tom hissed in pain, unleashing his destructive magic. Dense black smoke raced to cover the entire hall. Dozens of explosions rocked the walls, sending debris in every direction. Albus and Harry were secure under the golden shield he had conjured, but Bellatrix was not so lucky. Numerous cuts and bruises appeared on her skin. Albus stepped out of the shield as the aftershocks died off.

"Look out!" Harry yelled.

Albus turned around. Tom had used the sound of the explosions as cover and appeared behind him. He saw dual jets of green and crimson light approaching him. His mind, with a collective battle experience of decades, correctly guessed the spells, calculated their probability of hitting him, and estimated the damage of different strategies – all within the blink of an eye.

Fawkes appeared above him in a flash of fire and dove in front of the green spell. He burst into flame, its small, weak body falling at Albus's feet. The crimson bolt of light, most likely a nightmare curse, was intercepted by the centaur who leaped in front of him. Albus conjured a bronze shield, useful against all dark curses except the Unforgivables, and looked down at his familiar. Albus heard Fawkes' cry of pain and for the first time in over five decades, felt true anger finally rear its ugly head inside him.

The Elder wand rejoiced, tugged at his magic, itself deciding on the outcome of the duel. Albus threw off the pull of the call of the wand; he will not let himself be consumed by bloodlust. Nor will he hold back, he decided.

His next spell fell like the hammer of Thor on the shield Tom had conjured, causing Tom's knees to buckle and his attempted Flesh-burning curse to die midway between them.

Albus swiped his wand in a long, fluid movement, and a sphere of pure white light appeared above Tom. The sphere fell with gravity and enclosed Tom who roared in anger and started pounding the insides with powerful blasters and killing curses.

There was a commotion behind Albus, and he turned to saw the goblin and elf statues leading a stunned minister of magic and a retinue of Aurors. Cornelius was still in his night robes and wearing a pair of pink fluffy slippers.

"MASTER!" screamed Bellatrix. Tom had vanished. The sphere dissipated once Tom decided to flee in spirit form. Old magic, perfected by Egyptian pharaohs. Of course, Tom would feel a connection with them as they were also terrified of death.

His relief was short-lived as Harry yelled, twisting and contorting on the floor. Suddenly, Albus understood Tom's intentions. For the first time that night, he was truly afraid.

Harry stood up, slowly and unsurely as if his body could not remember how to. He looked like a marionette being controlled by unseen hands. Albus raised his wand but his mind came up blank for any spell which could help him in this case. Possession was not something he had an experience with apart from a few books he had read in his youth.

Albus forced himself through Harry's mind, uncaring that he was violating his privacy, and entered a landscape which took his breath away.

He stood on the precipice of a valley, one whose end was nowhere in sight. Before him, two giant shadows thrashed and struck at each other, ignorant of the damage they were inflicting on the landscape. Mountains rose and fell, entire forests were set ablaze, crevices, deep and filled with lava, opened, and swallowed the remains of the forests.

The two shadows slowly took shape. Serpents, but of course. One was bright green with black scales and red eyes. The other was also green but with scales of a deep golden and a lightning-shaped scar on its forehead. Tom & Harry. Their personalities manifesting as two giant serpents.

Albus watched as clouds gathered above, dark and foreboding. With every flash of lightning, Harry grew stronger and his colors grew more prominent, especially the golden hue of his eyes. The rain seemed to be strengthening him.

Tears.

Harry was still emotional over Sirius' supposed death. It had been foolish of Albus to not have told Harry the truth, but he had been busy. Now, it seemed, the foresight would be to their benefit.

Slowly, but surely, Harry overpowered Voldemort, and with a final blow which ripped apart the Earth, Voldemort's serpent shattered into a million pieces that swirled up and vanished like smoke through a chimney. Albus, himself, was violently thrown back.

Albus shook his head and found himself standing in the atrium. Harry lay on the floor next to him, breathing heavily, fresh tears on his face. There was no sign of Tom, as well as Bellatrix but an Auror was being carried out by his colleagues. Ah well.

Cornelius hurried forward, no doubt to mumble like a fool. Albus leaned down, placing a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. The boy looked up with tear-stained eyes, his face contorted in sadness.

"Harry, forgive me for not telling you sooner, but Sirius is alive. He may be confined to a healer's care for a few days but he breathes."

He watched with extreme satisfaction as Harry nodded, a wide smile forming on his face. "I…I am sorry, sir. I was angry and…I didn't listen to you or Snape. When I saw the vision, I simply couldn't wait…"

"And behaved in a way anyone would have. Don't beat yourself up for giving in to your emotions, Harry. It is what makes you human, and a far better wizard than I'd have ever thought."

Albus stood up, pulling a midnight blue handkerchief out of his pocket. He tapped with his wand and muttered, "_Portus. _Wait for me, Harry. I will be along shortly."

Ignoring the shocked look on the minister of magic's face, Albus handed over the portkey to Harry who vanished in a swirl of colors. Still ignoring Fudge, Albus walked to where baby Fawkes was now just crawling out of his own ashes. He picked up Fawkes and nuzzled it with his neck. "You were magnificent, Fawkes. Just give me a minute, and we will be home."

By then, a dozen Aurors had surrounded him, their wands pointed at him only half-heartedly. Albus sighed. He looked at Cornelius who withered under his gaze.

"Now, Cornelius, I will speak for a mere minute and you will listen. You have just seen the proof of what Harry and I have been saying for the past year or so, and I believe that answers quite a few of your questions. You will rescind the orders for my and Hagrid's arrest or I will be forced to hurt your people. Dolores Umbridge has been removed from the faculty at Hogwarts effective immediately and you will launch an inquiry on her for using Blood Quills which I believe are banned and considered dark magic. If you head down to the Department of Mysteries, you will find Death Eaters trapped by the members of the Order of the Phoenix. I sincerely hope they'd be detained better than the ones at Azkaban."

Cornelius opened and closed his mouth, again and again. The Aurors had lowered their wands and were speaking in hushed tones.

Fawkes chirped once.

Harry.

"I will send a message for when I am free for further discussion on the current events, Cornelius. Good night," Albus said. He shot off a Patronus each for Kingsley and Tonks with instructions and then disappeared.


End file.
